Untouchable
by mayprincess
Summary: But he had forgotten, in that suspended moment of disbelief, in that shred of chance they had willed into existence, that he was, without a doubt, untouchable. -- Dan&Karen...just think, without these two there would be no One Tree Hill.
1. Prologue: Week 5

**This is set in the same universe as my first story All of Me. You don't need to read it to understand the story, but it would provide some back-story. You can find it here if you're interested. This story is mostly Dan/Karen, because, well, I don't really have a reason. I guess I just needed to write this. I reread these lines that I wrote, "He left the café defiantly, desperately trying to shed his loneliness like a new skin. It wouldn't happen. That's not how it worked. You had to live in the skin you created." And they reminded me of this beautiful Natalie Merchant song called **_**My Skin**_**…and, the rest is what they call history right?**

**Title: Untouchable**

**Disclaimer: Umm…I own nothing. Possibly not even the story.**

**Featured song: **_**My Skin**_** by Natalie Merchant, ****lyrics are italicized**

**Prologue (Week Five)**

_Take a look at my body  
Look at my hands  
There's so much here that I don't understand_

* * *

His fingers itched to touch her skin. He had felt this compulsion before. If truth be told, he felt it most of the time, but he was always able to stop himself. With logic and reason. With thoughts of what it could mean for everyone involved. With fear of rejection. So many excuses that didn't amount to much at this moment as his hand reached out to her soft cheek.

He was sure she would buck at his contact – be repulsed or outraged – so when her eyes fluttered shut and she cradled her face gently into his palm, he was stunned and shaken. Too dazed not to move in closer. Too astonished not to brush his lips against hers.

She opened her eyes then, and he watched as they grew large in reaction. Large but not confused, he noted, as he dipped his head in one more time tasting more than just her lips.

For the past few weeks, she had been his one saving grace. She was the one shining light in his bleak existence. It was cliché and trite. He would even go so far to say it was corny. Regardless, it was the truth. Her words were rational and kind. Beautiful and calm, just like her. Every syllable carried him through to the next day. Every pregnant pause and heavy noise had guided him to where he was right now. He had needed them.

_

* * *

Your face-saving promises  
Whispered like prayers  
I don't need them_

* * *

But now he needed this. He needed her.

They broke apart for a moment. He searched her face as her eyes roamed over his shoulder. What was she thinking? He couldn't tell, but it couldn't be good because her forehead wrinkled slightly in worry. She shook her head and whispered, "Lucas," as she pushed herself away from his broad chest. It was her reason to stop. He knew it. She didn't need to explain.

The words were already flowing from her mouth before he could stop her, so he guarded his emotion as best he could. Built the wall around for which he was all too accustomed.

"No," she said as though it wasn't already understood. "We can't," she croaked in a painfully definite and distant tone. And then in a decidedly weaker voice, "I can't."

She stepped back and away, grabbing her sweater off of the café's counter. "I'm sorry, Dan. This shouldn't have happened." She scurried to the door. "I have to go."

He didn't look back as Karen exited the store. He couldn't.

_

* * *

I've been treated so wrong__  
I've been treated so long  
As if I'm becoming untouchable_

* * *

He was too disgusted with himself. Too nauseated by the life he had made for himself. The choices he had made were as wretched and ugly as his life would always be. Alone.


	2. Ch 1: Week 1, Starting at the beginning

**Chapter One: Week One**

**[Set several weeks before the prologue, and right after my other story _All of Me_]**__

**Part I**

It had been a week since the storm, yet the events that followed were anything but tame. After the hurricane, Nathan had slumped back into the Scott residence with the same gloom in his eyes at the thought of doomed reconciliation between his warring parents. But, Dan noticed, that gloom was backed by a new resilience he didn't think could be carried by the Scott genes. For the first time, he truly envied his son. He had a chance to break from the mold that had bound Dan for his whole life. And Dan had a pretty good idea who was supporting this new shimmer of hope for his son.

It didn't make him like her though. Haley was obviously becoming a permanent fixture in his son's life. Luckily, he was only exposed to her self-righteous disdain every other week – as per the agreement Deb, Dan, and Nathan had settled upon once they were able to sit down and talk rationally (as possible for the trio) about the situation.

The "situation", what a joke, Dan thought, scoffing at his ridiculous life. His marriage was over in every way but the official document method. It had dissolved like a magic trick – it disappeared out of nowhere but the workings of the trick had been place for some time. In addition to his glowing marital failure, he was quite sure his son despised every bit of him. The only reason Nathan opted to live with his dad on alternating weeks was because the other option, Deb, wasn't exactly all that appealing to Nathan either. Nathan was indeed Dan's son in that way – he didn't deal well with betrayal.

It was Friday and Nathan would soon be over with Haley, no doubt, in tow. Dan breathed in the stillness of the beach house, drinking in its familiar ease and discomfort. He had no one to disturb. No one to hurt. But he also had no one at all.

………………………………………… 

_Well, contempt loves the silence_

_It thrives in the dark_

………………………………………… 

It was in this quiet that he let his mind drift back to that night in the café. He would later chastise himself for lingering on the past. It was desperate. It was sad. It was absolutely not where he wanted to go, but he couldn't help it. She was the only person in this mess that had given him a chance to grieve and emote. Karen had tried to help. Granted, she couldn't fix his sad existence, but she could begin to thaw out his frozen countenance and core. He didn't have to play out his tired character with her, even though it didn't make sense. She of all people shouldn't give him the light of day. But she was different.

"You're so different from everyone else," he heard a voice echo faintly behind him. Great. Now, on top of everything else, he was going crazy. "What's with that crazy ass hat, anyways?" he recognized his son's voice as the jingle of his keys signified his entrance through the beach house's side door.

"What's with your crazy ass face?" a distinctly feminine voice quipped. She smiled, he could almost hear as her lips curled into a laugh. And then her voice began a whooping sound, as he was sure that Nathan had scooped her up in mock disgust.

"I have it on good authority that you like this crazy ass face." He was happy with her. They were content and familiar…and nauseating, Dan huffed, standing up to enter the room where the disruption had taken place.

They didn't even notice his presence because they were too wrapped up in each other's embrace. It disturbed him to no end.

………………………………………… 

_With fine winding tendrils_

_That strangle the heart_

………………………………………… 

"Ah, Haley," he interrupted, "what do I owe this pleasure?" he sneered.

She pulled away from Nathan, a blush and a thread of decency wrapping their way around her face. "Hi, Mr. Scott." She looked down, never sure what to say.

"Dad," Nathan nodded towards him in a cold manner. "We're just here to drop my stuff off."

He walked away, grabbing a glass off of the counter in the living room, and calling back, "It's a pretty nicely decorated pit stop, isn't it son?" He poured himself a glass of Scotch and sauntered off into his study.

He could still hear their hushed tones bounce off the walls of the stylishly designed home.

"He's in a crappy mood," said the female voice.

"Yeah, since he was born," sighed his son. "Don't let him damper our mood."

A door closed. Followed by silence. Where he was left alone to think about what he shouldn't. Where he was left to thrive in his loneliness, Scotch, and the past.

**Part II:**

"Hey, look at you," came a friendly voice from the door on the side of Lucas's bedroom. "You're like Speedy Gonzales, Luke," said Haley, smiling at her friend as she entered his room. "I haven't seen you this sprite since the spleen removal."

Lucas winced at the mention. At times in his life, he had wondered what exactly the spleen did. Why was it useful? But now that his was gone, it was not only missed, it was also a sore subject – figuratively and literally.

He shook it off and nodded in agreement. For the first time since the car accident, Lucas didn't feel like a fatigued shell of his former self. The new physical therapist in Charlotte was amazing. It was hard and slow work, but he had complete faith in her methods. At this rate, he might be back on the court in a month, he thought to himself.

Realizing that Haley was still there, he refocused. "Hey, what are you doing here?" It came off as slightly accusatory and she clucked her tongue at him in response.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Not that you need a reason because I adore seeing you," he added off the look she gave him. And she smiled, her warm, light-inducing Haley smile.

She plopped down on his bed, dropping her bag on the floor in the process. "Well, I just stopped by to give you the English notes I copied for you," she grinned. "See, there are some advantages to this whole slinged-arm bit – you can get others to do your dirty work for you." She wagged her eyebrows in a very cute fashion and proceeded to thumb through the book lying on his bed. "Hmm, Thomas Mann's short stories? Must be light reading," she joked turning the book upside down and sideways in inspection.

"You know I love you, babe, but where are these notes you speak of. I have an appointment in Charlotte that Peyton is picking me up for in about ten minutes," he finished, checking his watch.

"Peyton?" Haley questioned.

"Yes, Peyton." Luke said, diverting his eyes from her decidedly more inquisitive ones.

Hesitating slightly, she opened her mouth to say, "What's the latest news development in that sorted, Star-worthy event?"

"Hmm…let's not go there," he replied. "Let's just say its not cleared up yet and move on to my notes. Where are they?"

"They're in my giant hobo purse on the floor. Be a babe and grab them for me. I'm engrossed in this _Tonio Kroger_ story. German angst enthralls me," she mocked lightly.

He grabbed her bag off the floor and began to root through it. It really was a hobo bag, he thought to himself. He was pretty sure he could fit a very small person in there along side her chap-stick, sorted feminine products, notes, and…wait…what was that at the bottom?

"Isn't this a story about a man who loses his faith?" she asked, still gazing confusedly at the text.

"No," he said, his voice distant. Distracted by the contents of her bag. "I don't think he had faith to begin with." His tone was low as he reached for the wrappers in the bottom of her purse. "Hales, what are these?" he finally asked, furnishing two packaged condoms in the air.

Still looking at that book, she responded, "What are…ohh…" She had looked up. She had seen the incriminating purse inhabitants.

"Haley?" He couldn't believe this. He didn't want to believe this.

"What do they look like, Luke?" she posed, her voice teetering with an incredulous edge.

"You can't be serious?" he scoffed.

Putting the book down, Haley swung her legs over the bed to sit upright. "Yes, Luke. I can."

She sat there defiantly. And although her wide eyes begged him not to push, this was too important. He didn't think that Nathan and her were at this stage yet. He couldn't let her make a mistake. Softening his tone, he started, "Hales, I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret. Don't rush this. It's…" he breathed, desperately searching for the words, "it's one thing to be prepared…"

"Yeah, cause if history has shown us anything – it's that the Scott men are very fertile," she interrupted. Off his disgusted look, he watched her tuck her hair behind her ear in preparation for the words that followed. "Plus…you talk like you can nip this in the bud." He tried his best to glare at her warningly, to get her to stop telling him something he didn't want to know, but she pushed forward. "Well, surprise. That bud's blossomed already, buddy. I like the b-words. Well, except for baby, hence the condoms," she rambled nervously.

He didn't have the words. Did she just say what he thought she said? Were Nathan and his Haley already…Were they…God. This was too disturbing. He looked up at her, shaking his head. "Oh, Haley"

"Luke, don't do this."

"I need to. I, mean, I get that you two are getting serious, but why?"

She exhaled in an exasperated pitch, but before she could respond, he continued. "Everything I still see shows shades of Dan. You don't want that, and you sure as hell don't deserve that," he finished in an almost shrill voice.

"No, Lucas. I deserve someone that wants me and needs me and that's Nathan. God, don't you get it? I'm…" Looking down, she paused weighing her language or perhaps, understanding the weight for the first time. "I'm in love with him. That's why." She gazed back up into Lucas's frown. "That's the best reason, right? And he's not Dan. He never will be. It's sad you don't see that Lucas, because he's been just as damaged by that man as you have. He doesn't need your attacks as well."

"I wish I could believe you Hales. I wish I could be happy for you – believe you've met someone good enough for you – but you haven't. I can promise you that."

………………………………………… 

_They say that promises sweeten the blow_

_But I don't need them, no_

_I don't need them_

………………………………………… 

He watched her take a deep breath, obviously trying to calm her fuming nerves. Shaking her head in frustration, she voiced slowly, "For once, I don't care what you wish."

The words stung and reeled, hanging in the room like stale air, until Haley broke the silence. "Look Luke, I know you don't understand," she explained gently, "but sometimes you can't help who you fall for. You can't choose who just takes your breath away. Love doesn't work that way. You can't control it or even reason with it – no one can, not even you." He stared at her blankly, not knowing what to say, and she looked away, pained at his ignorance. Glancing at her wristwatch, she noted, "You have an appointment, and I've got to go anyway. I have a study date with Nathan. We'll talk later, ok?"

She patted his shoulder softly, conveying with that simple gesture everything he needed to know at the moment. Everything would be all right…eventually. Right now though, he needed to digest the conversation as a whole.

"Ok, Hales."

She turned to walk away. Reaching for the door handle, she twisted around, and softly chewing on her lower lip, she timidly asked, "Can I have my bag?"

He signed. It was half in jest. Half in resignation. "Sure," he replied, tossing it at her with his left hand. "Have fun."

"Oh, I will," she said wagging her eyebrows at him.

"Get out," he laughed as she exited his room.

Soon after, he heard edgy, grunge music followed by an obnoxious clunking honk. Peyton was here. Shuffling his feet towards the door, he silently wondered what he did to deserve all this drama in his life.

**Part III:**

"Jeez, Dad, why do you need to act like that?" Nathan questioned, scowling at Dan's ridiculous nature.

"I'm just saying, you're going to have to step it up a few notches if you expect to make the finals this year Nathan. I know for a fact that your endurance levels are waning in the final quarter," Dan pointed out, trying to give his kid a few helpful pointers. He ignored his son's fervent eye roll. "You'll have to run at least an extra mile a day if you ever want to live up to these records," he said pointing to the almost shrine-like trophy case in the beach house. Beaming when he saw his reflection in the untarnished sheen. "Unless of course you want to get your cardio elsewhere," he smirked. "I suppose Miss James is good for something," he said nonchalantly, still leering at his shiny past.

Before he knew it, his enraged son had forced him against the wall. "Don't." The anger residing in his son was palpable, ready to really attack if Dan said anything else derogatory. "You can harass me all you want, but don't even let her name slip from your mouth," he warned.

He chuckled as his son let go. "She's got you wound up tight, doesn't she?"

Nathan began to walk away. "Whatever. This isn't worth it," he barked. "I'm going to dinner with Mom," he said grabbing his keys. "I'll see you next week."

"Not exactly, Nathan. I have you until tomorrow."

"I'm not a day planner, Dad," he said poised at the door. "Get over it." With that, he was gone.

"Figures," Dan grunted. It was Thursday night, and since he wasn't exactly the Must-See TV type of guy, he had nothing to do, so he consulted his mental checklist. Insult your son's girlfriend, check. Infuriate your son, check. Hey, maybe he got a double check on that one – after all, Lucas could always be out there whining and blaming him for all his problems.

Hmm, what was left? Alienate everyone you know, check.

All in all, he had fulfilled his Dan Scott duties for the evening. He had even gone above and beyond. That was him; the over-achiever, he jeered. What now?

He walked out onto the deck overlooking the beach. It was beginning to drizzle – the small beads of rain gradually clumping together to form bigger drops. The clumps splashed against the sand, leaving marks in the gritty surface that would just be washed away later. It reminded him of his senior year in high school. Brett Atwell's beach party. It had started to rain that night too. They had all darted for shelter from the harmless sky. Everyone but her. She was like that. She was never afraid of the world and what it tried to douse her with.

He remembered her dark, straight hair curling before his eyes as it soaked up the heaven's cries. And she had looked even more beautiful. If that was possible.

God. What was wrong with him? He needed to clear his mind. He grabbed his keys off the deck patio and ran towards his car, dodging the rain at all costs. But the weather, although not at hurricane levels, was enough to remind him of his last moment of peace shared with Karen. He wasn't surprised when he pulled his Dan Scott Motors SUV in front of the café. He was disgusted with himself. He was lamenting over how pitiable he was becoming. But a part of him didn't really care – not if he got a chance to see her.

It had become almost a game to him, a game of survival over the past two weeks. He would watch, even more intently than before. Watch for her subtle graces and gentle pleas. Tonight, though, she was alone. Before, he knew what he as doing, he had gotten out of his car and crossed the gap of sidewalk and time to reach the caf's simple door. He opened it, hesitantly ushering himself in. This time without her help.

………………………………………………………………..........................................……………………………… 

_I've been treated so wrong_

_I've been treated so long_

_As if I'm becoming untouchable_

………………………………………… 

The wispy, elegant lyrics drifted through the café as Karen began to close down the espresso machine. It was late, and although it wasn't technically closing time, she was tired and wanted to go home to her beautiful bed.

The bell above the door rang, suggesting someone's presence. She silently cursed not locking the door earlier when the thought had crossed her mind.

"I'm sorry, we're clo…"the words died in her throat as she turned around to see the visitor. He was soaked, not as thoroughly as the last time she has seen him, but the similarity was a bit unnerving.

She let out a breath, that unfortunately, she knew she was holding. "Umm," she started grabbing the wipe-cloth off the counter, "do you want a coffee? Speak nor or forever hold your decaf," she smiled faintly in his direction in hopes that she would stabilize the possibly vicarious situation.

He stepped closer to the counter, tentatively, almost like he was afraid it would disappear if he got closer. "Yeah. I'll take a cup," he said in an uncharacteristically diluted tone.

She turned around, busying herself with the coffee pot. Calling over her shoulder, she asked, "Regular, right?"

"Yeah. Yes," he replied.

She placed the cup down before him. It was black, with one sugar on the side. Some things you never forget, she told herself.

He nodded in appreciation, breaking open the sugar to add half the packet. He brought the strong liquid to his lips. The steam filled the silence between them as her song continued in the background.

………………………………………… 

_I'm the slow dying flower_

_In the frost killing hour_

_Sweet turning sour and untouchable_

………………………………………… 

She diverted her attention back to the espresso machine, wiping away the grinds and excess milk. "I love this song," she said, mostly to herself.

"It's beautiful." The words ran down her spine. They were harmless, she told herself, until she caught the look in his eyes. The meaning was something else entirely, she realized, as he drank in her form with his coffee.

Awkward. Nervous. Uneasy. She turned the radio off. "Yeah, I guess so." Her voice was unsure.

They were both unsure.


	3. Ch 2: Week 3, Rituals and Coffee

**Chapter Two: Week Three**

It had become routine. A sadly misunderstood and strangely comforting Thursday night ritual practiced by him, Karen, and a single cup of bewildered coffee.

Three weeks had passed since he had first found his way to this empty counter. The words exchanged were few and far between, but Dan found solace in her silence. Hell, it was better than sitting alone stewing in his own bitterness, he considered quickly.

Trying anxiously not to ruin his Karen-induced mellowness, he pushed the internal comment away focusing rather on her wonderfully brewed coffee. He had missed out on a lot in life because of the mistakes he had made, and now, he thought trivially, he could add the caf's drink selection to that list.

"What are you doing here?" a voice broke abruptly through his line of thought. He raised his head away from the dark pool of liquid only to realize that he was deeply knotted in Karen's suddenly hardened glare.

He sighed, realizing from her incriminating stare that she expected an answer. Although he should have been anticipating this, to be honest, he hadn't really expected it. The question was formed as though she didn't know him. And the stinging reality was that from her perspective she didn't.

When it was obvious that he had nothing to say, she continued, "Well, I've run the possible scenarios through my head and none of them make any sense." She finished skeptically, wringing a dishtowel between her hands.

"It's the coffee," he smirked in a confident tone even though inside he was grappling for a response.

She scoffed. Loudly. Disbelievingly. And a part of him wanted to smear the righteousness right off of her face. For someone who implied little knowledge of his motivations, she was sure quick to jump on his answers.

"What?" he bit back now irritated at her questioning. "It's not possible that I enjoy the drink selections? Maybe it's the quaint ambiance of your fine establishment," he said, the sarcasm dripping like warm molasses. "Or maybe I'm just here to piss you off," he pronounced spitefully, knowing that's what she probably wanted to hear.

She turned away from cutting remark. "Look," she started, "we both know that Deb is not here on Thursday nights, and if this is just another way to mess with Lucas, I'm putting my foot down."

"This isn't about Lucas," he erupted with disdain. Perhaps, he thought in retrospect, not the best way to speak about her son.

Slowly, she turned back around, heated anger crackling from her stare. "It never is with you," she seethed quietly.

"The kid's better off that way, anyway," he mumbled, pushing himself away from the counter, knowing it was time to quit and proud of himself for giving her enough respect to actually disengage from the conversation now as opposed to later. He began to walk away, dreading his last step through the door because he knew it would be his last.

And like the god sent he knew she was, her voice called out behind him. "What are you looking for Dan?" she questioned hesitantly. Insightfully. "It's not Nathan," she added, referring to how this all started. "What is it?"

He paused at the door, wondering silently if it was just morbid curiosity on her behalf or if she really cared enough to want to unlock that complicated and shameful mystery.

_………………………………………….._

_Oh, I need the darkness_

_The sweetness _

_The sadness _

_………………………………………….._

He stared outside captivated by the blackness of the sky. It would be so easy, he thought, to leave now and not respond. All he had to do was will himself to push open the door and ignore her pleasantly soft voice, but he wasn't ready to give up this ritual, the routine. In three weeks, it had become a part of him. He needed her and her temperate nature. He didn't even mind her just anger – because, to be honest, it was always used appropriately.

He rotated around to catch her inquisitive glare. A part of him had hoped she wouldn't be there. That she would have given up on his silence, on his frustration, and retreated to her work. But there she was, standing still as a rock in a stream. His contradiction, he grinned sadly. No matter how much he pushed, she stayed strong. No matter how far away he thought he placed her, she was right in front of him.

_………………………………………….._

_The weakness_

_Oh, I need this_

_………………………………………….._

It was at this moment that he gave up. He didn't use a grand act or eloquent declaration. It wasn't obvious or overt. Rather, he quietly let his walls crumble down realizing that with all the people in his life, she was the one he didn't want to hold back.

It was ridiculous really, he chided himself. He didn't have a chance with her. Knowing she would listen would have to be enough.

"I'm looking for myself." The words fell from his lips reluctantly. They had been a long time coming, and he was certain they would never be uttered again.

She waited a moment. Searching him for ulterior motives. Searching herself for the uncertain strength.

She turned, and he quickly regretted ever opening up.

"Sit down," she whispered so lightly he almost thought he had made it up in his wishful mind until he saw her turn back to the counter with a coffee pot in hand. She poured the steaming liquid, refilling and revitalizing his cup and morale.

He walked over wordlessly, truly stunned at her gesture. Sitting down, he clasped the warmth of the mug in front of him and marveled in the unwarranted warmth all around him when he was with her.

__


	4. Ch 3: Wk 5, Confrontations&Realizations

**Part I: Week Five**

"So, why are we here again?" Haley asked Nathan as he turned the key to the beach house. "I thought it wasn't wise to enter the monster's lair?" she said half-jokingly.

"Well, the monster is out for the evening," he reassured her. "But just in case," he gestured towards the inside, "why don't you go in first?"

"That's what I love about you Scott," she responded, rubbing her thumb across his cheek. "You're such the gentleman." He chuckled as they walked inside, hoping that the Thursday-night pattern where he father was conveniently absent would continue to hold up. His father's comments towards his relationship with Haley had been getting particularly snide lately, and he really didn't want to subject her to his wrath, but he also needed the alone time with her.

Over the past month, Haley's best friend responsibilities had been in overdrive. She had apparently adopted the role of mediator in Lucas's current domestic disputes between Brooke and Peyton. Stupid Luc-ass, he swore quietly under his breath. He knew it was juvenile, but it helped him feel better to remind himself of what a putz Lucas could be. Who cheats on a girl with her best friend and then expects it all to just magically work out because he's "sensitive" and uses a lot of hair product. Really, the guy was ridiculous. He should just suck it up like a man, realize he screwed up royally with all parties involved, and stop pulling his Haley into the mess.

They had more important things to do, he told himself as he inched closer to her. A part of him wanted to come here tonight to isolate them from the rest of the world. He knew it was selfish. Though, sometimes with her, he couldn't help himself.

She smiled when he wrapped his arms around her from behind, and he gave her a gentle kiss on her neck in response to her warmth. "I see no signs of Dan," she said, the relief evident in her voice, as she turned around in his arms, her face pressing softly into his chest. She looked up into his eyes. "How did you know he wouldn't be here?"

"He hasn't been here for the past few Thursday nights," he replied, shrugging off the question as he let go of her to walk towards the kitchen.

She followed closely behind. "What do you think he's doing?" she asked accusingly as though he was off planning some evil scheme to take over the world or perhaps just the NBA. Actually, Nathan reflected, he wouldn't put that past his dad. But in all reality, if Dan were plotting anything at the moment, it would probably be something more mundane. Like, for instance, how can he piss Nathan off? Or, how can he make another heart wrenching attack at his mother. These were the things that Nathan was sure occupied his father's twisted mind.

"I don't know," Nathan finally responded, running through the possible options, "but he's usually more bearable on Friday mornings," he added. "So whatever he's doing or whoever," he said, raising his eyebrows, "he can keep it up."

She winced slightly at his words. "That sounded bad, didn't it?" he questioned.

"Yep," she answered giggling at that look of disgust on his face. "Why don't we change the subject?" she grinned.

"That sounds wonderful," he replied taking the opportunity to dip his head down and really kiss her for the first time today. It felt so nice to have her like this, alone with _several_ possibilities before them.

Her mouth was warm and sweet just like her, and she moaned softly as his tongue darted between her lips. The soft noise went straight to his groin, and he couldn't help tugging her closer. Her fingers crept slowly up the back of his neck, nestling in his hair as she dragged his head closer to her own. She was so aggressive when she wanted to be, and he reveled in that thought as he felt her tight little form grind into his.

His testosterone kicking into full force, he pushed her up against the kitchen counter. Placing one hand behind her, he quickly lifted her up. Welcoming his advance, she slid onto the kitchen surface, this time pulling his body closer and between her legs. She arched her body towards him, exposing the long slide of her neckline. Watching her lust-filled eyes flutter shut, he let his lips travel slowly down the bare skin. His hands busied themselves with the button down shirt she had chosen to wear today with a mind-numbingly suggestive skirt. It hadn't been too short, but it had kept his mind racing all day long.

Remembering one particular fantasy he had had while attempting a geometry pop quiz this morning, he dropped one hand to her thigh, bunching the fabric up as his hand slid closer to it's heated destination. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers pressed seductively closer.

"Nathan," she whispered huskily, the word only spiking his excitement as he continued. "We should…" the words died in her throat when she felt the tease of his hand. Her head fell forward, her previously shielded eyes opening to look straight into his – her usually light and spirited pupils wet and darkened with want.

She chewed gently on her lip, letting her head fall back. "We should really…" she began roughly, obviously determined to get out whatever words she was trying to form. He was equally as determined to hush her with his desire as his mouth started to graze her neckline again. "We should really get back to studying," she croaked. "Or at least start since that was the plan tonight." Her words were shaky at best, almost like there was no meaning in them at all. He could tell her body didn't even agree because her hips expressed an entirely different opinion, crashing into his. Her legs wrapped around him, and he took this as his cue to respond.

"Oh, I plan on doing some studying," he smirked, lifting her off the counter and carrying her drunkenly towards his room.

When he finally made it to the bed, he stopped to marvel at her disheveled beauty – her lips swollen by his own, her shirt practically falling off, her hair forming a tangled halo around her face. She smiled up at him in a lazy, sexy manner, and he knew he was hooked. He kissed her slowly, almost maddeningly, because no matter how hot it got, how frenzied they became, it always came back to this. Something he never had with anyone else.

_..........................................._

_I need a lullaby_

_A kiss goodnight_

_Angel sweet love of my life_

_Oh, I need this_

_..........................................._

She was the first person he ever wanted to see. The only person he dreamed of at night. Her presence made him forget about everything wrong – it soothed his soul like a lullaby.

He was in love.

It was obvious and true, and he decided, as the kiss grew deeper and more intense, that all he ever wanted was her.

_........................_…………………………………………………………………………

**Part II: **

It was Thursday night. As Dan locked up the dealership, he tried furiously to deny the spring forming in his step. It was becoming rather ludicrous how much he looked forward to these talks, to the ritual. Tonight would be the fifth time he would see her. The fifth chance to open up. She was like his therapy – a panacea for all of his ailments.

He was always excited to leave work on Thursdays; uncharacteristic for him because usually he thrived on the control that he wielded here. But on Thursdays, he had to pay extra attention to detail – making sure he didn't forget any of the closing procedures in his haste. As Dan turned the lock to the outside of the dealership, quietly setting the last of the several security codes, he heard a light huff behind him. He sighed, expecting a customer with some inane late-night question that he wasn't in the mood to answer. But being the salesman that he was, he plastered a most persuasive smile on his lips and turned to greet the idiocy. He had expected wrong.

It wasn't a customer or even a random person off the street. No, standing before him was an unassuming, slightly frightened yet defiant young man who he swore used more hair gel than necessary.

"Son," he nodded. He said it without thinking. It was just a term to him, a way to greet someone. But this wasn't someone, and he winced once he realized the ironic blunder.

"Lucas," he corrected himself.

They stood there staring at one another; awkward probably the only word to capture a sliver of the moment. It was dark outside, the streetlight only setting a slight glow on their features. Dan was appreciative of the darkness – it required less of a show. Less acting on his part. It also gave him less of a glimpse of the boy's hatred-embedded features.

Life was just easier in the dark.

Shaking off the discomfort, Dan tried his best to fall back into character. "Well, I sure appreciate this stare down, but I have places to be. Can we speed this up?" God, why am I such a jerk? he thought.

Life was just easier as a jerk.

"Um," the boy stuttered a little. He had seen him uncomfortable before, but this was unusual. Lately, it had seemed that Lucas had grown a backbone when confronted with him. He would have been proud given any other circumstance. "I know," Lucas finally said cryptically.

I know? He knew what? What the hell was he talking about? Thoughts went rushing through Dan's head, and once again, he thanked the darkness for the mask it was providing over his frenzied features. Did he know about Thursdays? He couldn't. Who would tell him?

"My mom told me about it." What now? Was the kid reading his mind? Karen wouldn't tell. She would never broach the subject with her son. She would be too smart, too kind, too ashamed of her part in the practice.

He stood there gaping. Literally gaping at the boy. For the first time, he felt completely vulnerable in Lucas's presence. A part of him was scared that this was Lucas's way of warning him, telling him to stay away. The other part was surprised that the kid wasn't screaming at him in that whiny, virtuous voice he often had to listen to.

The boy shuffled forward a bit, hanging his head down. "Look," he uttered into the night air, "I need to thank you."

What? Dan asked himself. What the hell was going on? Confusion was not his best color.

"Mom told me about the accident. About what you did." He looked back up. "You saved my life. And I haven't really been the best person these past few months, but I'm trying to reconcile that," he continued in that annoyingly earnest way he had about him. "We don't get along, and we probably never will, but what you did was really decent. I just wanted you to know that."

He stared blankly at the boy, unsure of a response. If he hadn't been conditioned for years upon years to bottle everything up, to live life like a statue in the presence of male figures, those words would have produced a noticeable reaction.

But that wasn't the case.

"Yeah, well, we wouldn't want to lose our chance at the finals because Keith can't look at a stop light," he spit out, far more harshly than necessary.

Lucas's face fell in that disappointed way Dan was accustomed to. "Yeah, I guess so." He stepped back, checking the clock on his cell phone. "Well, I have to go meet Keith for a movie." He looked like he wanted to say something else, perhaps a good-bye, but he didn't. He just walked away, looking dejected and let down.

It didn't sting anymore, Dan told himself. Life was just easier when you didn't feel.

…………………………………………………………………………

**Part III: **

From her view at the counter, she could see him step hesitantly into the Café. His features weighed down by apprehension, he slowly approached the counter.

"Hey Kar," Keith stated in the gently gruff fashion for which she was so familiar.

"Keith," she acknowledged, continuing to count her cashier drawer.

There was a heaviness about their relationship that had developed since her arrival from Europe. It felt like a muggy, summer afternoon – she could feel it pressing upon her like condensed summer heat.

They hadn't really dealt with what had happened after Lucas's accident, and Karen had a suspicion that Keith wanted to talk now. He had waited, patiently, for her to come to him. But after all was said, she didn't know how to approach him. How do you tell someone that you love, someone integral to your life and the life of your son that your disappointment in him may never lift? That, although he was still loved, still necessary, it would never be the same? She didn't want to hurt him. She didn't want to punish him. She also didn't want to avoid him any longer, now that the anger of that night in the hospital had subsided, but avoidance was easier.

"I'll make this short," he began, grief lining his pitch. "Lucas asked me to see a movie tonight because school is out tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure that was ok with you."

Sometimes Keith reminded her of her favorite worn-out teddy bear she used to cling to as a child. He was familiar and sweet. He was rough around the edges, and standing here, in the caf's dim night lighting, he had that same sad face that old keepsakes garnish when they begin to feel out of place.

She couldn't stand the look. He was Keith. He had been her support for countless years. He was like a father to Lucas. She couldn't let him go on thinking he was useless or no longer needed.

"It's ok, Keith," she started. "You don't need to ask me for permission in the future," extending the olive branch she hoped he would take. "Lucas is your family. I'm your family," she smiled kindly. "We had a rough moment there, but we'll make it through. Maybe, we can all have dinner together tomorrow night. Just like we used too."

Her heart both warmed and broke at the optimism that shone through his relieved grin. It was an odd reaction, she noted, but one she could explain if pressed too. She didn't want to lead him on. She did love him, but he needed to understand the difference.

"Karen, I think you just made my night." He glowed.

_"I'm the slow dying flower_

_In the frost killing hour_

_Sweet turning sour and untouchable"___

The lyrics wafted through the café, reminding Karen of a different night, with a different Scott brother. Without thinking, without being able to catch the words before they spilled out, she whispered, "I love this song."

Keith stood still for a moment, obviously listening. "Yeah, it's ok." Dismissing its importance as he looked at his watch, he continued, "Oh, I need to leave, but I'll see you tomorrow." He turned around, a decided spring in his step.

The difference was amazing, she thought.

Keith was easy and comfortable, caring and supportive. He was always there for her and her family. But when it came to her heart, in it's truest sense, the part that she had locked down a long time ago, he was just that – ok.

_"It's beautiful." _The words haunted her. The feelings that resurfaced at those simple words he spoke a little over a month ago were abundant and horrifying. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense to her mind. How could he still claim that part of her after all the cards time had dealt?

_"Do you remember the way that you touched me before_

_All of the trembling sweetness I love and adored_

_Your face-saving promises whispered like prayers"_

The words of the song continued to move her -- taking her to a place she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to go. They reminded her that he was the only person she had ever loved. She had given so much of herself to him with trust and affection. He was her first and last in so many respects. But this new set of emotions didn't reek of the past – they weren't residual. And that scared her.

_"I don't need them"_

She didn't need this. Not now, when life was settled and nice. She refused to give in. She refused to let him sneak his way back into her heart.

But as she saw him begin his slow walk across the street, his destination clear, she realized that he hadn't snuck. Dan hadn't crept or crawled or wriggled or wormed – or any other snake-like action. It was an almost devastating realization – he had never left. And he probably never would.

…………………………………………………………………………

**Part IV:**

The air was peculiar tonight – a bizarre energy pulsing through the usually soft café atmosphere. He could feel it hanging and twisting; thick yet agile like warm molasses strangling a fruit fly.

Something was different, but Dan couldn't quite place it. Maybe, he thought, it was the first time Karen had been watching for his arrival, or so it had seemed when he entered the store under her careful watch. He usually always slipped in, almost unnoticed until a regular black coffee with one sugar on the side was placed before him with little pomp and circumstance. That was his signal – the green light from Karen that she was ready to begin.

But not tonight. Tonight, she seemed all too aware of him from the start. From her doe-eyed glance as he entered the café, to her spectacular show of clumsiness as she dropped the coffee pot on the unforgiving café floor.

Before they began to talk, she had retreated to the back, no doubt searching for a mop or a broom and dustpan. She was taking an extremely long time in her search, his natural anxiousness growing in the wait. What was she doing back there? he asked himself, trying to fill the time as he fiddled with the napkins on the counter. Maybe she had a back door. Maybe she was escaping this sick little ritual as he sat at the counter idly twiddling his thumbs. He wouldn't fault her if she did, but he wouldn't be able the stomach the disappointment either.

She was never one to disappoint. She emerged from the back with a broom and a mop. She gathered the chunks of glass, discarding them quickly as she busied herself with the mess.

"I'm sorry about that," she said referring to the crash remnants. She was clearly flustered by the whole incident.

"Don't be," he responded. She didn't need to be sorry for anything. Ever.

She quickly finished a brief mopping, and turned back to softly greet him. "Hi."

It was informal and brief, but it was enough – enough to send waves of warmth throughout his whole body. "Hello," he replied.

Yes, he thought, it was definitely odd tonight. There was something in the air.

"Well, I would ask if you wanted your regular, but I think the rest of your regular is on the ground or in the mop bucket," Karen said with a slight smile. "Can I recommend the hazelnut coffee?" she asked, poised in front of the coffee decanter labeled "Hazelnut". "It's different, but it's still good."

He nodded his head in acceptance. She poured the coffee, as a connection popped into his mind. Before he could censor himself, he began, "Speaking of different, Lucas stopped by the dealership tonight." He grunted upon realization that Lucas was never the best conversation starter.

Her eyes grew large in shock. "He did? Why?" Total bewilderment blanketed her face.

He hesitated. "Uh, well, he came to tell me that he knew what happened."

"What happened?" she asked in disbelief. "What happened when?" The bewilderment now creeping into her voice with full force.

"What happened the night of the accident," he answered.

"Oh," she sighed, the relief evident. She must have had the same initial suspicions he had when Lucas had approached him.

"Yeah, I was relieved by that as well," he said, the words almost harsh as he realized just how worried she had been. How scared that their secret might have been exposed. "Don't worry," he spit out. "I screwed the whole interaction up. He won't be sniffing around me anymore." His shoulders fell in self-loathing. He was tired of screwing everything up.

"What happened, Dan?" she probed gently after a minute or two had passed. The question was genuine, and he had a hard time distinguishing her motivation behind asking it. Did she want to know what he did to Lucas? Did she want to know how he had hurt him yet again? Or was she actually concerned about Dan's obvious hatred for himself? Did she want to know what that implied?

"I just," he started, his mood calmer as he searched for the words. "He thanked me, and I…well I did what I do. I made an asinine comment. I made a mistake with him," he said quietly, lacking the typical Dan-Scott-snide-gusto. He looked at her listening intently to his concerns. Wondering how he could have let such a gift slip through his fingers, he openly stated, "I've made a lot of mistakes."

Her eyes lowered to the counter, not quite able to withstand Dan's powerful glare. The honesty was too raw, too gawky and intense.

"Yes," she responded, finally looking back up. "Yes, you have. But I want to believe that you will try to fix them." Hope. Was that hope he saw flickering in her deep brown eyes?

"Do you?" he almost whispered.

"Do I what?" she asked, leaning against the counter.

"Do you believe in me?" In sixteen long years, he never thought he would be here, asking her this. He didn't think he had that right, but in this moment, he had to know. He had to know if there was hope for him, and she had always been his keeper of hope. She had shown him chance and possibility when he was younger. Would she show it again, he wondered to himself.

She swallowed hard, stepping away from the counter and slowly walking around to the seat next to him. She sat down; a first for this new relationship. "I used to," she said. "I used to believe you were everyth — that you could do everything."

"Right," he barked. Used to. In the past. Where all his dreams of contentment had died right along with the words in her throat.

She pushed forward, almost dismissing his comment. "But that's not true. No one can do everything. We just do what we can." It was good response. A gentle, wise, Karen response. A diplomatic response.

It hurt, nonetheless. The pain was stabbing, as he watched her organize the napkins he had been picking at earlier. Lost in his self-imposed ache, he almost didn't hear her whisper, "A part of me still believes."

"Come again?" he asked in disbelief. Had she just said that? Or had his deranged mind conjured it up to play a twisted game?

She sighed, her brow knitted in concern. And after moment, "I don't know why Dan," she said, looking confused and slightly disturbed by her own words, "but I do. I do still believe in you."

The words hit him like a Mack truck, sending him reeling in his seat. He twisted around to make sure it was really Karen beside him. That her and her words were real.

And staring at her before him, he itched to touch her skin – to know without a doubt that she was real and not just another delusion. He had felt the craving before – if truth was told, he felt it most of the time. But something had always stopped him. Logic or reason. Thoughts of what it could mean for everyone involved. Fear of rejection. So many excuses, so many concerns that meant nothing at this moment. Those fears were empty and hollow. So shallow when compared to her and her confession. Armed with this new sense, he couldn't help reaching out for her sweet skin.

He was certain she would cringe at his contact – be repulsed and outraged – so when her eyes fluttered shut and she cradled her face gently into his palm, he was stunned and shaken to his core. He was too dazed not to move in closer. Too astonished not to brush his lips against hers.

She opened her eyes then. Her big, beautiful, chestnut eyes. And he watched as they grew large in reaction. Large but not confused. She wasn't revolted by his touch. She wasn't shrinking away from the stroke of his lips. That was the only motivation he needed to dip his head in one more time. This time tasting more than just her lips.


	5. Ch 4: Consequence

**Chapter Four: Consequence **

Not too long ago, Karen had been in the back of the café deciding on the best escape route. It was just too overwhelming. Seeing Dan wander towards the store at the same time she came to a distressing epiphany regarding her feelings for him was just too much to handle. Unfortunately, that handling had included one of her coffee pots, which now, shattered to pieces, was housed in the trash. It was ironic really, considering that was how this strange non-relationship belonged – shattered and trashed.

But it wasn't. It was more alive now than ever before, because this time, she knew what she was getting into. Who she was getting into it with. She knew the faults. The consequences. She knew his gray areas. Hell, she even knew his black areas. She couldn't fool herself like she had when he was young. Filled with so much spirit. So much potential.

"I do still believe in you." The words had fallen out as though they had no place else to go. Perhaps she could still fool herself, she groaned. If only she were a fool, it would make everything easier. It would explain so much.

But Karen Roe wasn't a fool. She wasn't a fool that day she was left standing alone in a high school gym, and she wasn't a fool right now. She could see what Dan was planning as he studied her from his seat. She knew the look on his face, and her first and only thought was to brush away whatever attempt he made. Shatter it. Trash it. Stop it from being real any longer.

But the touch felt…it was…she couldn't put it into words. It felt like coming home after a trip that had lasted far too long. There was a sweet aching to it that overwhelmed her senses, made her crave more as her eyes fell shut. The bitter warmth enveloped her in the simple gesture, making her need more. It seemed natural to lean into his hand. It felt natural to feel his lips graze her own. Natural to open her eyes and see his lost stare, the one that garnered his expression when his control was failing. Natural that she was done in for by that look.

He kissed her again. This time for keeps. No turning back, she thought. She couldn't shatter this. She couldn't trash it. She couldn't stop it from being real any longer.

They broke apart for a moment and he searched her face for answers. She didn't have any. Looking away, she caught a glimpse of blond hair behind the door of the café.

Her breath halted. Staggered. Strangled her in recognition. "Lucas," she whispered. Her son, standing less than twenty feet away, grew white in anger, or was that disgust? Disgust with her.

She shoved herself away from Dan, panic coursing through her veins. Her son whipped around, rushing away from her. "No," she said aloud, as though he could hear her. Even if he could, he wouldn't listen, she thought desperately. This was a breaking point. This was the consequence – her action's result and importance.

Her heart broke. Shattered. But she would fight before it was trashed. Realizing Dan was still there, she looked back at him with horror-stricken eyes. "We can't," she grasped confidently. And then, decidedly less confident, "I can't."

The shattered pieces crumbled some more at the truly broken look he gave her. But she couldn't worry about this. Not now. She had to find Lucas. Absent-mindedly grabbing her sweater off the counter, she said, "I'm sorry Dan. This shouldn't have happened. I have to go."

Karen didn't look back as she exited the store. She wouldn't allow herself to.


	6. Ch 5: Forget

**Chapter Five: Forget**

When he was young, he had always wished that his father would sweep back into Tree Hill, back into his life and the life of his mother. One day, he would come home from playing on the court with Keith, and his dad would be in the kitchen hugging his mom, maybe even kissing her. He would turn around, arms stretched opened, his face kind – full of love, and all the early years without him would dissolve away like sugar in water. Everything would be sweeter – everything would be forgotten because when you're only five, you can forget. You forgive, move on, love, play, be happy, and it's all so easy. It would have been so simple.

Of course, that was before he found out that this mythical father figure, the one with a reason and warm heart, would never sweep back into Tree Hill. His return couldn't be glorious or amazing. It wouldn't be triumphant or forgiven, because that man had never left. He was there in Tree Hill, in Lucas's home, stationed right at the edge of his life all along. He just hadn't bothered to care.

That was unforgettable. At five, at ten, at sixteen, Lucas knew that Dan Scott just didn't care. Dan didn't want him or his mom. That was always the truth. That was how he resolved it in his head, because nothing else would make sense. But after tonight, seeing his mom wrapped up in the devil's embrace, he knew he was wrong. It wasn't that Dan didn't want him and his mom – it was that Dan didn't want him. It was just him.

It hurt. It stung like so many other wounds that Dan had inflicted, perhaps even worse because this one flew by under the radar. It slinked in unnoticed. All of Dan's other crippling attacks had always been overt. The snide comments. The malicious glares. The nasty innuendos. They were always out in the open for all to see. But this one, this show, this wasn't meant for anyone to see.

His mother and his "father" kissing just like his five-year-old dream. But he wasn't five. Not anymore. It was too late now. Too late to forgive. Too late to move on. Too late to forget.

And his mother, his rock, his support, his Mecca, she was in on it. She participated in the rouse. Would he ever be able to forgive that? Would he be able to look at her the same? Would he…

"Lucas", he heard his uncle call from across the street.

"Keith," he said, he voice still shaky. It was ok, though, Keith would just think it was from the run. He had run all the way from the café to the movie theatre.

"Where have you been? The movie starts in two minutes," Keith said checking his watch.

"I," Lucas started, unsure of a response. "I thought we were meeting at the café." Oh yeah, he thought. That's why I was there. That's why I saw what I saw. "You said we were going to meet there," slight anger creeping into his voice. Why hadn't Keith been there? He could have stopped it. He could've protected him. Shielded him from the monstrous sneak attack.

"No, Luke," Keith shook his head. "Remember, I said I was stopping by the café to ask Karen a question," he said smiling, as though the question had yielded a magnificent response. "And then we would meet here," he continued. "Well, here, but at least ten minutes ago. We should get inside."

Keith moved towards the ticket booth, buying two tickets and ushering Lucas into the building. Keith was right. They were supposed to meet here. He had forgotten after his disconcerting meeting with Dan. Stupid Dan. He wasn't anything like Keith. Keith was warm hearted. He had reason. He cared about Lucas and his mother. He wanted him. He loved him. Keith was wonderful, everything a father should be. Lucas had thought that several times in his life, and right now, in that moment, if intense wishes made things real, it would be true. Not just because Dan Scott was horrible. Not just because of what just happened. But because of everything. Keith was, in all respects that matter, his father.

Lucas sat in the movie, trying desperately not to seethe and stew about what had happened in the café. What he had seen. He tried to understand why his mother would choose Dan over Keith. Why his mother would do something so irreversible and painful to her son.

He didn't speak much on the car ride home. Keith just thought he was tired. A part of him was. Tired of Dan Scott getting under his skin. When Keith dropped him off at his door, he told him to have a good night.

He wouldn't.

When he turned the knob, his mother, his rock, his support, was slumped over at that table. Crumbled in pieces. Tears streaks staining her face. "Lucas," she whimpered quietly, the emotion in her voice choking them both. Seeing her there, obviously racked with guilt and misery, he almost forgot. He almost ran to her, to comfort her, to be there for her. But he couldn't. He couldn't run to her now when all night he had been running away from her. Running away from this.

Closing the door behind him, Lucas took a deep breath. He couldn't run anymore. Nope, he thought bitterly, finally confronting his mother, he definitely would not be having a good night. There was nothing good to have at that moment. Nothing at all.


	7. Ch 6: Alone

**Chapter Six: Alone**

When she left the café, the door didn't slam or crack. There was no crash or bang or sharp collision of a metal lock and wooden frame. In fact, its noise barely disturbed the air. It was a whisper; hunched close to his ear, leaning in as far as it could, silently taunting his hope.

It was irony when such a soft noise could fracture his already distorted spirit. Softness wasn't supposed to break a man.

But it did.

It was just like her, Dan thought. Understated. Delicate. Gentle. Flowing. But it's dulled edges cut straight to the bone.

Softness wasn't supposed to cut.

He stood there for a moment knowing she was gone. It was all gone. He couldn't come back next Thursday or the Thursday after that. He had ruined it with his impulsivity. His need. The need to touch her and to be touched in return. But he had forgotten, in that suspended moment of disbelief, in that shred of chance they had willed into existence, that he was, without a doubt, untouchable. The choices he had made were wretched and ugly, and the shell he had created for himself was only meant for one person's prison. He was meant to be…

Alone. He was alone, standing bleakly in front of the counter. His coffee still warm and sweet smelling. He hadn't even tried it. He hadn't let the balmy liquid soothe his troubled mind. And he wouldn't. It was done. Gone. This was over now. He turned around, quickening his pace as he closed in on that guilty door. That taunting, haunting, mocking door. He flipped the lights off and turned the bottom lock before he exited, silently cursing the small kind act. She didn't want him. Karen didn't want him to take care of her or her café. He should have left the lock open, vulnerable. Just like he had been.

But even he couldn't be that malicious. That uncaring. Not with her anyway. He had filled his jackass quotient with her long ago.

He climbed into his SUV, heading home. On the way towards the beach house, he saw Lucas running towards his brother Keith. Dan vaguely remembered Lucas's mention of seeing a movie with his uncle. Their conversation had been terse, rigid, and uncomfortable, nothing like the brief glimpse of interaction Dan saw between Keith and the boy.

Another failure, he moaned. Another firm justification for his loneliness.

He pulled into the driveway, noting Nathan's black mustang parked close to the house. Dan was a little surprised. Usually, Nathan stayed out late when he didn't have school the next day, and Dan was fairly certain school was canceled tomorrow for one of those useless professional study days. He walked into the house, expecting to hear noise. It was only a little after 10 pm. Nathan should still be up, but he was greeted only with silence. With the loneliness.

"Nathan," he called cautiously into the hallway, almost hoping the kid was out. One less way to screw things up, he thought.

There was no response. He meandered over to the bar in the living room and poured himself a glass of Scotch, fully prepared to end his pitiful day with the only company more callous than him. Taking a swig of the harsh liquid, he made his way to his room. Seeing that Nathan's door was open, he peered in to say goodnight, but instead he saw what most parents dread. Two obviously post-coital teenage kids tangled together, asleep in each other's arms. Their clothes shamefully strewn about the floor. Their youthful frenzy obvious to any passerby.

He chuckled lightly. If it were any other time, he would have found pleasure in waking their teenage happiness. Seeing the embarrassed look blanket Haley's usually self-righteous face would have provided him hours of self-congratulatory smirking. But not tonight.

They were so calm. So serene and innocent looking that he almost doubted what was painfully clear – that apparently neither one was innocent any longer. And he had that nagging, familiar feeling he always felt when he saw them together.

He was tough on Haley. He doubted her motives. He questioned her sincerity. He incensed his son with derogatory comments directed at her. Everything about her from her straightforward demeanor to her gentle voice grated on his nerves.

She was so much like Karen, he sighed, finally admitting the drive behind his nastiness. So much, it hurt to watch her move. To watch her do little things like breathe. Sure, she was a bit more quirky. More independent. Less staggering, in his opinion. His son would argue that one. But she was going to save Nathan. He remembered that determined look. The loyal sparkle in her eyes that he knew from experience. The love that poured from her washed over his son, giving him confidence and self-respect. She was good for him. Probably the best thing that ever happened to him. He should have been happy, but he couldn't handle seeing it happen all over again. Watching his flashbacks come to life everyday – fleshed out in the giddy happiness they shared.

She _was_ so much like Karen, and he hoped, as he saw his son gently stir, that Nathan was nothing like him. Haley deserved better. Karen deserved better. Nathan deserved better. And Nathan was stronger, more resilient; already bold enough to rebel against his father. He didn't shrink in his father's shadow like Dan had. He wasn't even standing in the shadow any longer.

"Dad?" he heard his son's groggy voice pose from the bed.

"Son," he said, meaning the word just as much as he wished he had meant it earlier this evening.

Nathan sat up; making sure the sheets thoroughly covered his sleeping girlfriend. "Uh," he said, slightly embarrassed. Dan had never seen this side of Nathan. He used to flaunt Peyton around all the time when he lived at home. Maybe Nathan's bashful, uncomfortable grin was a sign of growth. "Dad, this isn't…" the words fell away.

"It's ok," said Dan, "I know what it isn't." His lips curved into a gentle slope. He was too tired to put up the show. He loved his son too much to milk this situation for all it was worth. "I just have a few questions," he stated, a hint of smirk on his lips.

His son took a deep exasperated breath, waiting for some slimy crack or asinine remark. His son knew him well, but he didn't feel like Dan Scott at the moment. "Does that girl have parents, and do they ever notice that she's missing?"

Nathan's breath released into a genuine burst of quiet laughter. It warmed Dan's heart, repairing part of the damage inflicted upon it this evening. "I don't know, Dad," Nathan said, his eyes slightly crinkling at the edges, "I don't think so. I mean, she says she has them, but I've never seen them."

Smiling, Dan nodded, taking a step back. "Goodnight son," he offered, pulling the knob as he moved further back. "Next time, close the door."

He turned away, feeling better about life. He walked the last few steps to his room, and putting his unfinished glass on the dresser drawer, he abandoned it. He didn't need the amber poison to provide his warmth tonight. His son's subtle charm would be enough. At least for tonight.


	8. Ch 7: Promises and Concessions

**Chapter Seven: Promises and Concessions**

His glare was so angry, so heated, so pressured. A cork ready to pop, leaving disaster in its wake as the contents trailed off after it. It burned into her tears with a disgust and loathing she had never felt before.

And she felt guilty. Guilty for giving in. Guilty for knowing better and being stupid anyhow. Guilty for that look on his face. Even guilty for shedding her tears right now. She knew her son; a fact that made this moment all the more devastating because she could read every torn emotion on his face. Seeing her cry made him want to reach out, she could sense it. She could feel it, but he was fighting it. And she felt remorse for having caused even more conflict in his life.

This moment belonged to Lucas. He was the wronged party. It was his chance to be comforted. His chance to reach out to his mom and…

And what, she thought? Slap him in the face like she had tonight. That must have been how it felt to see her kissing Dan – like a hard, cold slap to the skin. The impact was so hard it etched every strand of disbelief, distrust, disappointment, dis-everything so clearly into his face. Scars she wasn't sure could heal.

"Lucas," she squeaked again, trying her best to compose herself. Be the support. Be the mom…the mom who hadn't just betrayed her son in such a blatant fashion.

"Forget it." His voice was frosted white – cold and hardened from contemplation. He moved towards her, his ocean-stricken eyes not quite matching his glacial tone. There seemed to be a war battling inside them – between loving his mom or hating her. And in a brief moment of delusion, Karen thought he might actually mean it. He might actually forgive her and 'forget it'. He could walk over and pat her gently on the shoulder, like she had done for him so many times when he was in need. He would go to his room; cool down, and tomorrow would be a new day.

But the delusion was crushed as he stormed past her on a direct route to his room. He stopped for a moment. And turning around to look at her again, her heart clenched. His eyes no longer hinted at any warmth or confusion. They were dark, steeling over as he spit out his words: "Next time, close the blinds. Lock the door." His expression flickered slightly before settling back into hurt and resentment. "You wouldn't want just anybody seeing that."

Tilting his head to the slight left, he smiled sadly and retreated down the hallway.

She watched. Letting him go. Letting him walk away.

Walk away? What was she thinking? This was her son. He was the blood that pumped through her each and every day keeping her going. He was the reason she was proud of her past. He was the beginning and the end. And everything in between.

And she would _not_ let him walk away. Not like this. Not so angry. So pained. So in need of her love.

"Lucas," she called towards his room, rushing down the hall. "Lucas, we need to talk about this," she said, almost slamming into his room. "It's not what you think." And really, it wasn't. She hadn't meant for it to go that far. She would never choose Dan over Lucas. Her son had to know that.

"It's not what I think?" he yelled, his voice spiking for the first time that night. An incredulous spark lit his face, and with hostility and wrath seeping through each syllable, he griped, "I _think_ I saw my mother's tongue down a bastard's throat. Can you argue that?"

Fighting the urge to take a step back, remove herself from the blaring intensity in his voice, she trudged forward in her attempt to win back her boy, her life. "It's…what I mean is that was the first time." Maybe not the best way to win him back, she told herself.

He scoffed. Loudly. She didn't blame him. "We both know that's not the first time," he seethed. "After all, I'm living proof of that," he said lightly patting his chest in confirmation.

When had she raised such a smart-ass? It wasn't really a fair thought considering the events of the evening, but a small part of her still wanted to lash out at his rudeness. At his snarkiness, but the mother inside won out. "You know what I meant, Luke," she said in the classic 'mother'-tone. "This thing between…this..." God, why were words so hard to form! "It," she started triumphantly, proud of herself for finding just the right word, "it hasn't been going on."

Lucas stared at her, opening his mouth for a second and closing it again. Finally, he groaned, "You don't need to explain. Trust me, I don't want the details."

"But Lucas…" This needed to be cleared up, or perhaps set on the track to "cleared up".

"I don't want to listen," he snapped turning around, away from her.

"Well, you're going to anyhow!" she snapped back. Apparently, that particular trait was genetic.

He swirled around, athletically graceful even in his shock. And for a moment, they were both silent. Starring intently at one another until she broke the silence. "You see, this thing, it…" Searching awkwardly for the words, she broke the stare to glance at the floor.

Lost in thought for a moment, she was awoken by a gentle question. It was a tone she couldn't help but respond to because it was so intrinsically Lucas. Her beautiful boy. Her son. It was soft yet confident. Completely on target but lost and searching at the same time. "Is it over, mom?"

It was a plea -- the subtext heart-wrenchingly clear. He was just a little boy asking his mom to make it better somehow. To make it all go away.

But how could she answer that? How can something be over when it never started, not really anyway? It never got a chance, she told herself. And she didn't want to lie, not now when her baby was returning. She couldn't risk betraying him again. "It's…it's complicated."

He tilted his head again, quietly looking at his feet. And when he looked back up, the plea was no longer subtext. It was loud and clear, and it read, 'Just say it's over, mom. I _need_ that.'

When Lucas was born and the nurse had placed this perfect little person in her tired but exhilarated arms, Karen had made him a promise. She held onto his wonderfully lively little fingers, playing gently with his hand, and she whispered low in his ear. "I may not be able to give you everything you want or desire. We'll never be wealthy. That's just a fact, Lucas, but I can promise some things. I will always love you," she croaked through the honest tears of a mother. "I will always be there for you," she added, softly wiping away the tears as they dribbled onto his creased forehead. "And I will give you everything you need." He had cooed at her sincere words, his bright blue eyes shining up at her. Shining up at her just like now, and there wasn't a question. There was no doubt. She had made a promise she never wanted to break. One she never _would_ break.

"It's over." The words were definite and true. They stamped the air in authority even as they broke in her mouth. It was over. It was over so that her son was not.

Silence fell over the room, hushing the early cries of anger and offense. It was a reprieve. An absolution. It was a…

Concession.

He could tell. No matter how resolved she tried to sound. No matter how honest she wanted to be, Lucas could see what she was doing. She was giving up. Giving up for him. Again. And again. And again.

She had given up so much for her son. And as the hurt began to melt away, the pain stabbing his heart all night long slowly starting to dissipate, he felt…

Guilty. And something that his best friend had told him finally kicked in. Finally made sense.

"A few weeks ago, Haley told me that she was in love in with Nathan," Lucas began, quietly, carefully. "She told me that love, well, it was something you couldn't control or reason with. What did she say?" he asked himself, searching his memory for the exact phrase. "She said, 'Sometimes you can't choose who takes your breathe away,' or something Haley-like," he smiled remembering how wispy, how in love her tone had been.

Returning his attention to his mother, he raised the difficult question. "Is that what this is, mom? Is he something you want? Something you need?" He stopped, gathering the strength for the all the hard words he was about to string together. "Is Dan someone you can't help loving?"

He watched as her brown eyes, the eyes he looked into everyday for guidance and love, respect and wisdom, kindness and trust, he watched as they welled up in struggling tears. "It's over, Luke."

And a piece of him broke at the raw force of her voice. She meant it; he knew that. She meant it, but she didn't want it.

"Mom?" he questioned, giving her a chance to backtrack. Maybe they could work this out. Work out all of her feelings and his. Compromise so that his mother didn't need to forfeit another part of her life completely.

"It's done," she said, making it so. "I made a mistake," she continued, not even bothering to wipe away the tears, "and you have to know Luke that I will do anything in my power to make it up to you," she finished honestly, her eyes reaching out for him – regretfully but with anticipation. Begging him for his forgiveness.

She already had it. She deserved more. "But mom…"

She turned around, finally allowing herself to swat at the water rolling down her cheek. "Keith is coming over for dinner tomorrow," she said, trying desperately to sound happy and familiar and normal. "That should be nice. Just like the old times."

He looked at the slumped outline of her shoulders knowing he had lost. Or she had lost. She never got to win. "Yeah," he spoke softly. "Just like the old times."

Where she would do everything. Everything for him.


	9. Ch 8: Love, Loss, and

**Chapter Eight: Love, Loss, and…**

"So what's with your dad?" Haley's voice echoed as she entered the café. And for a moment, Lucas was a bit shocked at the question. Thinking it was directed at him, he was surprised at how insensitive and un-Haley-like the inquiry was. That was until he saw Nathan tail in shortly behind her, and he watched as Haley gleamed up at her boyfriend as she finished her thought. "He was actually civil in the car ride over here."

"Yeah, I don't know," Nathan said, seemingly as confused as Haley. "He was really decent last night when he came home. I'm kind of worried about him."

The two moved towards the counter, where Lucas had been silently eavesdropping. A part of him wondering what could possibly influence Dan Scott in such a positive way that the word 'decent' could be used to describe his actions.

Then, it hit him. He had gone for almost a whole hour without thinking about last night and all the questions it had raised within him. He had been enjoying his mom's coffee, the best in his opinion, and he had forgotten. He had forgotten that it was probably his mom that had made such an indelible mark on Dan that he would actually show some humanity. And a part of him, the little part of him that was still so vulnerable to the man that was undeniably in his blood, wished that he could see some of that humanity – just once, he'd like to be conscious for it.

Lucas turned around, facing the pair. There were holding hands, quietly content with just being together. How had he missed it, he wondered. How had he missed them falling so hard for one another, because watching the two, it was just so obvious. And it was so ridiculous that he had lashed out at Haley earlier about the relationship – she was right; some things just can't be controlled. And Nathan and Haley's apparent affection for one another was one of those things.

Lucas put his coffee down, breathing in the new air of acceptance he was finally comfortable with. "Did you just say 'Dan' and 'decent' in the same sentence?" he asked, trying his best to sound light-hearted.

"Luke," Haley said, finally pulling herself away from Nathan's gaze. "It's the strangest thing. Dan drove us over to the café today, because you know my shift is in like ten minutes, and the whole way down, he didn't make one obnoxious remark. He didn't try to make me feel uncomfortable. He was actually kind of nice," she finished, crinkling her nose slightly – the mystified look dancing along her face amusing Lucas.

"Weird," he replied playfully.

"Yeah, man," Nathan piped in. "It is weird. Maybe, it's his time of the month, but reversed. Instead of being cranky and bitchy, he's being polite and not insane." Off of Haley's glare, he added, "Not that you're ever cranky or bitchy or that woman have a time of the month or PMS is a bad thing." Lucas laughed at Nathan's rambling.

"Geez Haley," Nathan continued, "stop looking at me like that." Her previous determined-don't-insult-women face was starting to decay as an amused smile spread across her lips. "I'm starting to ramble," Nathan noted mostly to himself. Looking up, he pointed to Haley accusingly. "Oh my god, I'm turning into you!"

Her smile turned into a slight pout. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

"Yeah," both Lucas and Nathan said at the same time – nodding their heads and chuckling in relaxed unison.

Lucas grinned over at Nathan. The small moment feeling like a giant leap.

"So, why did Dan drive you? Don't you have a fancy Mustang you like to rev around town, or did you wrap it around another telephone pole and jet from the crime scene?" Lucas quipped, enjoying the light banter that he felt comfortable bouncing around.

"Low blow, man," Nathan responded, although not at all phased.

"Hey, I'm just joking," Luke responded, holding his hands up in mock jest. "Really," he added for emphasis as Haley eyed him.

Another slight curve broke across her lips. "Oh my god Nathan, he's being serious. I think he just made a joke, and he's under the sad delusion that it was actually amusing!"

"Shut up," Luke said grabbing for a dishtowel on the counter and heaving it in her direction.

Catching it in midair, Nathan responded, "Hey, nobody throws things at my girl."

Luke tilted his head, taking a mental snapshot of the moment. He had always thought of Haley as his. He chalked it up to being male and territorial, but he always knew that she was a part of him. And she was – she always would be. Nathan wasn't a threat to that. He was just a new factor in the equation. A factor Lucas finally felt he could get used to if the kid continued to act as decent as he was acting at the moment. '_Decent' and 'Nathan' in the same thought_. Lucas considered the idea for a moment. My, how his world was changing.

"Anyway, the mustang is getting a tune up down the street," Nathan explained, snapping Luke from his thought. " We dropped it off this morning, and Dad offered to drive us into town. It should be ready in about an hour, so I just figured I would pester Haley and your mom until I could walk over to get it."

"Who's pestering me?" Karen asked as she emerged from the back carrying a tray with two plates. "Ooh, Haley. I'm so glad you're here," she grinned, quickly delivering the meals on her tray. Returning, she added, "Do you mind if I leave before my official shift ends? It hasn't been all that busy today, and I really need to get going to the grocery store to pick up a few items. Keith is coming over tonight for a family dinner," she said smiling a little too brightly, almost forcefully over in Lucas's direction.

"Sure, Karen. I'll be fine alone," Haley replied. "I can always put Nathan to work." She swatted Nathan lightly with the dishtowel Lucas had attempted to throw, and once again, Lucas wondered how on earth he had missed the very true and strong connection that had formed between his best friend and his former enemy.

His mom chuckled lightly. "Thank you, Haley."

"No problem." Grabbing her notepad, Haley pointed to the front of the café, "Look. My adoring public awaits." Then she crossed the short stretch of the café to welcome a customer who had just appeared at the door.

Karen took her apron off, shoving it under the counter. She grinned at Nathan as he ceremoniously picked at the napkins in front of him. "Ok. Well, I'm off then. I'll see you tonight Luke," she finished right before kissing her son on the forehead.

She began to walk towards the door. Lucas watched her and wondered how she could act so composed when just last night she was as big a mess as he had been. Her emotions had been so unguarded and real. But now, she had a good-spirited mask in front of it all – her cover-up obvious to no one but him.

The disguise, the make-up, it was all for him, he realized as she grasped the doorknob. She was being strong, giving up, and it was all for him. That familiar pull of regret and guilt within his chest tugged at his heart as he saw her begin to leave.

"Mom," he called out. She turned her head, and for a moment, he swore he caught a glimpse of sadness in the thick armor she had put up for the day. He wanted to say so much, but for once, words failed him. And in the end, he said the one thing he could think of. "I love you."

She smiled gracefully, proudly – a slight tear gathering in her bright eyes. "I love you too sweetheart." And with that, she left.

She had fully intended to go straight to the grocery store to pick up a few fresh vegetables for tonight's meal. A nice wine for the adults. Some of Lucas's favorite ice cream for dessert. Or at least, that was what she had told herself.

Karen had convinced herself that she needed to leave the café early to run a few errands, but that wasn't true. She just didn't want to be there any longer. She didn't want to smile at customers, laugh at their jokes, be a part of their daily life routine. She didn't want to look at the counter or the stools or take orders or cook. And she sure as hell didn't want to serve another coffee. That's what started this whole mess with Dan in the first place, she told herself. Stupid Dan. What was it about him, anyway? Any sane woman would go screaming for the hills if they knew his track record, but here she was, waiting…

Waiting in this place where she had no right to be. When she had ended up here, she was scared. She was surprised. She was overwhelmed. She was glued to the seat of her car, petrified at the thought of stepping foot on the gravel that would lead her to his door.

Silently chastising herself for driving to his beach house instead of the local market, she pushed herself out of her door. She knew in her heart that she needed to do this. She needed to confront him, to cleanse him from her mind. But although she was never one to shrink from responsibility, the idea of actually talking to him right now was…

It was…

Well, she would figure out what it was when she saw him. But after a few failed attempts knocking on the door, she noticed that his car was nowhere to be found.

_Great,_ she told herself. _Just great. _

She took a deep breath, frustration for so many reasons lacing through her body. Not ready to go back, back to normal, she turned slowly away from the front door, kicking her shoes off and abandoning them as she walked around the side of the house to take a look at the ocean.

It was wonderful and slow building – the way she always thought love should be. But the waves just beyond the distance were desperately slapping into one another, crashing and smashing around the soft, passionate waters. The gentle yet rough call of the liquid turmoil summoned her closer. She had always been attracted to the excitement, and no matter how calm she tried to come off in her adult life; she missed the frenzy that the waves were providing for her at that moment. The thrill, the anticipation of what could be next.

Staring out at the vastness of ocean, it didn't really make sense. How could something be so great, so gradual, yet so spirited and vigorous at the same time?

Curling the damp sand under her toes, she looked up to the sky, hoping for some kind of answer. But there was no answer – only dark gray threatening clouds. Ominous clouds beginning to cover the sun as the evening began to set in.

_Well is it dark enough  
Can you see me  
Do you want me  
Can you reach me  
Oh, I'm leaving_

It was enough, she told herself. She had tried. She had come here to reach out, to explain, to clear everything up. But that was never going to happen.

She turned around to leave, resigned and defeated, but little did she know, that standing just behind her was the source of the frenzy. The thrill. The anticipation. The beautiful mess she couldn't help being attracted to.

She stood dead in her tracks – those earlier feelings of dread and apprehension pulsing back through her body.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Dan asked, never taking his eyes off the view of the ocean.

The words hit her like a wave, desperately crashing and smashing into her. But they felt good – refreshing but warm.

She sighed, and giving in, she turned to once more face the striking waters.

"Yes, it is."

The clouds grew darker – more gray, more hostile. The waves more furious. But the two standing on the beach just stood there. Stillness. The silence lapping gently over them as they searched for the words that wouldn't be found.


	10. Ch 9: Letting Go

**Chapter Nine: …Letting Go**

When you find an unfamiliar car in your driveway and a random pair of shoes on your front porch, most people would be confused or even possibly scared. Most people would want to know what the hell was going on. Most people would be concerned – most people who weren't Dan Scott, anyway.

When Dan pulled up to the place he was calling home for the moment, he was a little put off by the unknown car in his driveway, but mostly, he was peeved that it was in his spot. As he walked to the door, he noticed the foreign pair of women's shoes cast off to the side of the front entrance. He figured it was one of Nathan's friends who had shown up to an empty house and decided to go walking on the beach. Or it could have been one of Dan's many pesky female neighbors who always "checked up" on him wearing clothes as flimsy as that reason to drop by. But frankly, he didn't care – as long as he didn't have to see the owner of the shoes, as long as he didn't have to talk or be social at the moment, he was fine with whatever trespassers came by.

Because for once in his life, Dan Scott wanted to be alone.

It was odd really. Over the past few weeks, few months, few years actually, that was all his mind had been bitching about. Being alone. Having no one – no one who really wanted to be around him, no one who didn't see him as a monster. But now, caged within that solitary fate, he craved the quiet that solitude could provide. He needed to reflect. He needed to heal. He needed to get the hell away from his son and his aggravating girlfriend.

They were so happy together, so content with one another, and for once, he didn't want to destroy that. But not saying the first thing that came to his mind when Haley had said, "I'm so ridiculous sometimes," jokingly to Nathan had nearly killed him. Not attacking took so much restraint – a trait which Dan never had much of.

He had tried. He really did try to be nice, pleasant even. But he was exhausted, and he longed for someone who he could be himself around without apology. Without regret. Without fear that they would leave him standing all alone.

Karen couldn't even do that, he reminded himself, wincing slightly at the memory that had been scorched into his mind the prior evening. When he had realized that sobering thought on the drive home, he decided that it was just better to be by himself. Give up. Let go of fleeting wishes. For so long, he had been struggling in troubled waters – slashing and violently grasping at everyone in his life just so that he'd have someone to hold onto no matter how miserable they were. He didn't want companionship at that price. Not anymore.

The truth was that he didn't do well alone, but he needed to get used to it. It was the only time he wasn't hurting anyone. It was the only time he didn't need to pretend to be someone he wasn't. It was just easier this way, he repeated to himself. It was just easier.

He walked to the back porch, silently considering his ill-fated destiny. He hoped that the beach could distract him for just a moment, a moment where he didn't have to continue running these thoughts over and over through his mind – grinding and shaping and smoothing them into polished and definitive truths.

And when he saw her there, the car-and-shoe culprit, the person he said he didn't care about as long as she didn't bother his peace, he laughed. A small, tongue-in-cheek laugh because it was just that ridiculous.

It was that ridiculous that he ever thought he would have peace without her.

_____________________________________________________________

He walked down to the beach quietly, cautiously, almost afraid that she would flitter off like a skittish bird at the first sign of his presence. She was looking up at the sky intently, and he wondered just what she was thinking about. She was just shielded enough by the early evening shadows to cast doubts on any of his speculations. But he figured whatever she was thinking about was intense by the growing hole her toes dug into the sand.

Her head went back down, her eyes probably skipping across the water. He saw her shoulder begin to move, to rotate her around, and he immediately fixed his eyes on the crushing chutes of water as they slapped against a long pier of rocks a few feet away from his coastline.

He sensed her stop, halt in slight shock. He felt the air change between them as she gasped lightly in recognition. And he heard words slip from his own mouth before he could even register them. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

His face didn't move to greet hers. He was too afraid she would flee if he attempted to pin her down with a stare. He just waited, taking in whatever of her he could from a distance.

She sighed softly and turned back around. "Yes, it is," she breathed, barely above a whisper. But he could hear it loud and clear. It felt like the ocean air had carried the words only to him, and they crackled all the way over, charged with expectation and…

Longing. Longing for something she felt she shouldn't and couldn't have, and it nipped at his insides to know that she thought he was a lost cause – that even though a part of her was attracted to whatever formed between them, that side would never win out.

"What are you doing here?" he barked, no longer scared to look her way, but still having no desire to read her face. He wouldn't like what it said.

She laughed quietly, a small, brief huff exiting her chest through her lips. "It's nice to see you too Dan," she said grinning, with a small glint in her eye and no apology.

"Well, excuse me. I guess I'm just used to seeing you run the other way," Dan said, but he couldn't quite muster the venom to send the message to her heart. In fact, the words came out almost as a private joke between old companions, old lovers.

"That's not fair," she stated simply and truthfully, but the small grin still played on her lips.

It wasn't. She was right. The comment wasn't fair, but…

"A lot of things aren't fair," he said, finally turning his gaze to rest on her brunette eyes. And he could sense the silent agreement behind them and the injustice that went along with the whole situation between them.

A giant chunk of rain came splashing down from the bright blackening clouds above. It crashed into the sand leaving a small but noticeable mark. Karen lifted her hands up to her shoulders, spreading her fingers and palms to feel the slight drizzle begin.

"Do you ever feel like rain is the theme of this relationship?" Dan asked dryly as a lump formed in his throat at the beauty of watching Karen touch the rain.

"It has rained a lot," she commented, looking straight into his eyes for a moment. "But rain's not a bad thing," she said. Looking away, she smiled at a thought and added, "Do you remember that party senior year? You know? Who was it…" she searched for the name.

"Brett Atwell's beach house," Dan offered.

"Yeah, Brett's party. Do you remember? It started to rain and everyone ran for cover. Everyone but—"

"But you," Dan finished, interrupting her trip down memory lane with an intense, raw stare.

She looked away, back towards the beach and the ocean. He followed her gaze to the waves that were swiftly becoming more treacherous as the rain began to intensify.

"I used to love the rain," Karen spoke slowly with a wisp of the past.

"Used to?" Dan couldn't help asking.

She paused, weighing her words. "I still do," she said, the ocean air once again carrying the full impact of the words to Dan. "I always will." She turned to look at him, the lump already in his throat doubling as he saw small tears mix with the rain running down her cheeks. "But I can't spend my time out here anymore." The words breaking with waves of regret and disappointment. "I have other responsibilities now."

He didn't know what to say because sometimes there just aren't words. There aren't words to express how a heart realizes the sad truth that no matter how you feel, life and choices and the past always get in the way. That no matter how much he felt for this amazing woman standing in front of him and no matter how much she felt for him, it just wouldn't work.

He didn't know what to say because sometimes there just aren't any words. So he nodded in acceptance.

"I'm going to get going, ok?" she whispered hoarsely, the emotion ripping at her throat as she rushed past him towards the house, her shoes, her car, and her ultimate departure.

He stood still, frozen in the moment as she whisked herself away. And when she was far enough, he answered her with a small, "Ok."

The rain began to beat hard into the raging waters and the sand and grit floating in the air bit as his eyes for what felt like forever.

Until…

"Dan?"

The voice echoed delicately through the air. It was so hesitant and so fair. So Karen.

He twisted around to see her walk closer to him. Her dark hair curling as the falling waters attacked. Her chestnut eyes swimming with tears, feelings, and one impulsive intent.

_You better shut your mouth  
And hold your breath  
And kiss me now  
And catch your death_

_Oh, I mean this  
Oh, I mean this_

Her lips were on his before he could rationalize what was happening – not that he could if he wanted to and not that he wanted to at all. He only wanted to kiss her back, drink in her flavor, remember how this felt.

A second just before there was no turning back, she pulled away. Reaching for his cheek softly, remorsefully, she spoke the words he knew had to come. "That's enough." She jerked her hand back, separating every last touch. "It's over," she said more to herself, and looking up at him, "I mean this."

And she did. Even with the pain doubting her voice, she meant it.

She walked away. This time for good. Standing there in the hard rain, a strange sense overtook him. He felt comfortable for the first time in a long time. He felt comfortable in his own skin because he knew he wasn't alone. Even though they weren't together, he would never be alone.

It was raining outside, a light dance of delicate water and sand dancing in the atmosphere. The world was changing around him with each drop, each impact, and for once he felt changed too. There were new marks left by erosion and decay, by heartache and lose, but he could feel some of the grief wash away into the unyielding ocean. The weight of loneliness was lifted, and for the first time, he was touched.


End file.
